It was night. Of course it was. It always is in these kinds of stories.
It was night and the stars were bright. I felt myself going slowly numb. That's what happens when you're out in the middle of a lake during a winter night. Especially when you're not dressed for warmth. Or when you feel numb on the inside, too. It starts spreading out.
It's pretty out here. Relaxed. Like nobody's watching. Nobody except me.
I close my eyes. And I see him.
Sally would probably be worried. Or disappointed. If I went missing, would he miss me? Would he be the one to find me out here? I searched it up. It would take weeks to find me. Weeks for my body to float back up. He would probably figure it out. He would wait for me.
I feel a pang of guilt. Sal is my best friend, my step-brother. I would trust him with the world. He stuck with me through everything. Even when we found about my dad. He's my hope. I want to be there for him.
I shiver again, feeling my eyes slowly start to focus. I hadn't even realized.
I slowly lifted myself up. I had been lying down. Sitting is for when decisions are made. And now I'm sitting. Now I'm looking out at the dark water. (Who knows how many bodies could be in here?)
The water. I sink my hand into it and feel the cold. I feel it and I don't like it, so I pull my hand out. I look back up at the sky.
The stars. They're him. And suddenly I can't. I desperately want to plunge myself into the icy water. But I can't. Because he would be sad. Sally would be devastated. I know it. Even when I convince myself he would hate me, deep down I know. And I just can't. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve another ghost.
So I grab the paddle. And I head back in what I think is the right direction.
When I reach the shore, I feel warmth. I feel it. A spot somewhere inside my stomach. And I know he's thinking about me. And I feel guilty again.
I feel guilty for trying to throw away the hope he gave me.
